


I'm not sorry

by Lunarlux



Series: On shot two shot, red shot blue shot [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Character Death, Depression, Loss of Trust, Self-Destruction, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-28 12:10:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarlux/pseuds/Lunarlux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all comes to an end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm not sorry

**Author's Note:**

> I am a horrible person.

After Stiles’ mother died he cut his finger on a knife in the kitchen. It wasn’t on purpose, but it felt kind of nice. He liked the way the pain distracted him from his thoughts and let him focus on one thing. So, he did it again. He wasn’t stupid so he put it in places nobody would ever see. His hips, sides, stomach and chest were flecked with little white scars that reminded him that there was a way out. He never took off his shirt. He bought a nice decorative knife with a blue handle and intricate designs. Once a month he’d allow himself to put a mark in his skin, and if he didn’t need to he wouldn’t. He had 26 marks in total.

When Scott turned into a werewolf he stopped because he knew Scott would smell it and wouldn’t understand why he does it. No one will, it just keeps him anchored.

After the Alphas had left the pack had bonded, but Stiles was still an outsider. Scott wouldn’t spend time with him anymore, the others didn’t care for him, and his father stopped talking to him months ago. He had stopped cutting when he needed it the most. That was his mistake.

He slowly slipped and fell into the hole of depression. He stopped eating, took more medication, threw up if he ever ate, and cut a lot. No one noticed it, and he had stopped talking to Scott altogether. Everyone looked away from him. He dropped out of lacrosse, because his bones were too brittle. He was 94 pounds of pale skin and fragile despair. He never laughed, he never talked, he stopped doing his homework, but he kept a steady grade. His sanity was slipping. He just wanted his mom.

This was it. That time in your life when you know it’s over, but this time he’s choosing it. He has his pills and his knife ready. He is prepared to leave and never come back. He typed his goodbye note, 

_Whoever cares_

_I am not sorry for this. It was my time. I am alone now. No one cares about me. I may seem strong, but I am very weak. I have lost everything for your stupid lies. And yet you still let me go as if I had given up nothing to help you. For the past months my only company is my pain and suffering. They’ve been kind to me and I have accepted them. I need my mother, but I could have used a father instead of these circumstances, Dad, I’m sorry for lying, if I could change it, I would. Scott you were my best friend until you changed, and it hurts to know your best friend doesn't want to talk to you. For the pack, I don’t think you realize you’d all be dead without me, so you owe me. Tell me father the truth. I’m sorry I’ll never see you again._

_Love,_

_Stiles_

He brought the knife down on his wrists and filled his stomach with pills. He calmly waited for the white noise to increase and the light to shine down on him. He felt peace.


End file.
